Babblings Of A Mad Woman
by stephalopolisO9
Summary: -Complete- Hermione was captured just after the Battle at Hogwarts. The isolation and torture are getting to her. The only escape she has is her mind. She knows she can hold her own, but just how long will it be before her captor succeeds in breaking her? EWE. Dark themes: torture, rape, self harm.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This will be my second story. I'm not much for author's notes, but I will tell you this. This will not be a happy story. I can guarantee that. It also will probably not be that long. I know how difficult it is to get into a new story with just one chapter, so I have included two. I hope you enjoy (kind of) and please leave a review. Your feedback is the motivation to continue or nip the story in the bud. Without further comments, proceed.

* * *

It had been months since she was in the room by herself. In the room there was nothing but a bed, a desk, a chair, a door, and a toilet that had no privacy. The room was warded off. There was no window, no clock, and no indication of how long she'd been there. Every day, while she slept, she would wake up to a poor meal on the desk. Not enough to fill her, but enough to keep her alive. Water. Bread. The occasional half rotten vegetable or fruit. The isolation was killing her. Her thoughts were her only company.

"My name is Hermione Granger. I was born September 19, 1979. I am 18 years old. I am a witch. I went to Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My best friends are Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. We were in a war. Harry defeated Lord Voldemort. We were cleaning the battle grounds. I was captured. I-"

A loud banging was coming up the stairs, interrupting her recital. Muffled sounds were getting clearer and closer. Another voice joined in. It sounded like they were bantering. She scooted closer to the wall, bringing her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.

She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

_Inhale. _They were at the top of the stairs.

_Exhale. _

_Inhale. _A charm was chanted.

_Exhale. _The door swung open.

She stared at the two men in the doorway. The smaller man she didn't recognize but the other she did. Oh she certainly did. He was her captor. He was the reason she was here. He stood tall with an amused look on his face.

He stepped closer, crouching down in front of her. "I brought a playmate for you, Mudblood."

She flinched as he ran his knuckles against her cheek. Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she stared at him and spit in his face. She prepared herself for a hit from him but nothing happened. Instead he wiped the spit from his face and licked it. She stared at him horrified. He was a monster.

He looked over his shoulder and motioned for his friend to come over.

"I told you she was a fighter. Potter's mudblood here."

He stood back up and headed towards the door.

"Dolohov?! What do you want me to do with her?"

Antonin Dolohov took hold of the doorknob and gave Hermione a once over.

"Break her."

He shut the door behind him leaving Hermione and the other man in the room. He conjured a chair and sat directly across from her. He crossed his legs and snapped his fingers. An old house elf appeared in an instant.

"Yes Master Frey." The house elf bowed.

"Prepare the dungeon for a training session as well as a cell. We have quite the project in our hands Mippy."

"Yes Master."

Mippy left them once again in the confines of the room. Hermione watched as he examined his nails, never bothering to look at her. She'd had enough of the silence.

"What's the training session?"

"Ahh. The Mudblood speaks. I was wondering how long it would take you to make a sound. I have it on good authority you never shut up."

"And who told you that?"

He smirked.

"A good friend of mine. Well, she was a good friend of mine. I believe your little boyfriend's mother took care of her though. Pity. I liked Bellatrix. She was a hell of a fuck."

Hermione scoffed at his crude language.

"She got what she deserved! She was a vile and evil woman!"

Frey laughed.

"Oh I am going to have so much fun teaching you." He clapped his hands. "Come on Mudblood, stand."

Hermione refused to stand. She held her knees tighter on the floor.

"Listen Mudblood-"

"My name is Hermione!"

"From now on you _**WILL **_respond to Mudblood or you will be punished. _NOW STAND!_"

She shot straight up and stood defiantly.

"Take a hold of my arm. Side along apparation." He stuck out his limb.

"No."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me where we're going."

"No."

"Then I'm not going anywhere with you."

She felt the sting on her face before she saw him raise his hand. She didn't have a chance to retaliate. The sensation of apparation got to her first. Her head hit the floor as she was tossed down.

"Imperio!"

Hermione lost control off her body. She couldn't move. Couldn't scream. The only thing she was able to do was shift her eyes around panicking. Robotically her legs moved her towards an isolated metal stock. She struggled internally as her wrists slid onto the posts and her neck took the middle slot. As soon as the top part of the stock locked into place, Frey released the imperio. She was hunched over in a very compromising position.

"Now Mudblood. Let me tell you how this is going to work. And if you do not obey, well...I'll let you know when we get there. Divesto."

She was now naked against the post.

"No! No! Please don't!"

She tried moving her body when he ran his hands down her back. He'd stop right at her butt and move back up to her shoulders.

"Such beautiful unmarked skin. An exquisite canvas if I do say so myself. Not even mole. Tell me Mudblood. Do you think your little friends will come and save you?"

"Harry and Ron will find me! They'll never abandon me! They will kill yo- AH!"

The long sting across her back made her stop.

"You bastard!"

Another sting across her back made her scream again.

"Tell me Mudblood. Does it hurt?" He caressed the slices along her back.

Not wanting to give him the pleasure of her pain, she muttered the only answer she could. "No."

Her answer earned her another two slashes.

"Let's play a game Mudblood. For every satisfying answer you give me, I will heal one of these wounds. Agreed?"

"Go to hell!" She spat.

"I'll give you that one as a pass. Next one, you won't be so lucky. Now, first question. Where is the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters?"

"I'll never tell! AHHH!"

She couldn't see him, but the shadow on the wall advised her as his silhouette raised the inflicting weapon as he struck her once more. She screamed. He asked her once again the same question. She didn't answer though.

There was a warm liquid running down her back, towards her butt, and down her legs. It took a moment to deduce that it was blood. Her blood. He kept asking her where the Order was but she knew she couldn't tell. She wouldn't tell.

Hermione wasn't called the "Brightest Witch of her Age" for no reason. She knew that although they won the Battle at Hogwarts and that the Dark Lord was defeated, the war wasn't over. The Death Eaters would not go down without a fight. And neither would she. She wouldn't tell him a thing. Harry and Ron will find her. They will take down all the Death Eaters. She just needed to be patient.

* * *

She thought about something that she had read in a book a long time ago. The idea of out of body experiences came to her around the 20th lash. Her mind took her to the very first time she rode a bike. She was six years old and she was convinced she didn't need training wheels anymore. After begging her father for a full week, he finally agreed. It was a Sunday afternoon, she recalled. Her mother had made them a nice picnic at the park and after eating quickly and being impatient; her father removed the training wheels from the bicycle. Her mother insisted she wear knee, elbow, and palm guards along with her helmet.

She felt the security of her father holding the back of the seat while she peddled forward. He let go and after a few meters, she lost control and landed on the grass. Her mother ran to pick her up but was stopped by her husband. He had told her to let Hermione stand on her own. She was a tough girl and that she was fine.

She did just that she stood up, wiped her trousers, picked up the bike and got on. She tried a few more times before she finally got it. She peddled and laughed as the wind blew her hair under the helmet. Her parents cheered from the sidelines. She had felt so free and accomplished. She kept going around the little park until she got back to her parents. Her dad had lifted her into the air, proud of her. She was so happy. She surrounded her mind with the cocoon of the memory. Replaying it over and over again. She could hold out. She had to.


	2. Chapter 2

The room was a small chaos. Everyone was arguing. George was yelling at Ron who was crying. Ginny was a sobbing mess on her own. Kingsley was talking loudly to a group of aurors. McGonagall and Flitwick were pouring over a map. No one was paying attention.

Harry slammed his fist down on the table. Everyone in the room stopped their bickering.

"Enough!" He yelled. "We're not getting anywhere! We need to focus!"

He walked towards a chalkboard in the Hogwarts classroom. It was a timeline of Hermione's last whereabouts. It went:

Hermione with Ron in the Chamber of Secrets.

Hermione in the Room of Requirements.

Hermione down in the foyer battling.

Hermione in the Great Hall.

Hermione helping clean up.

Hermione disappeared.

"Hermione has been missing for three months and the only lead or hope that we have is that she had her wand. Kingsley was able to trace her last spells."

He pointed toward another part of the board.

Episkey - to heal.

Wingardium Leviosa - to lift the wounded

Lumos

Expelliarmus - twice

Reducto

"From four down, we can tell that she tried to fight off her attacker or attackers. We have a list here of the dead Death Eaters, those in custody, and those at still at large. Our next step is to interrogate the Death Eaters we have captured and find any hideouts they still reside in. We have a few already. Kingsley?"

Kingsley motioned for them to gather around the map McGonagall and Flitwick were looking at earlier.

"We have two hideouts that we know of. Dawlish will lead one group to the one that belonged to the Lestrange's. The second will be led by Arthur. Lucius Malfoy, in cooperation with the Ministry, has been giving us information on all the residency's Riddle and his followers had. We're hoping that

Miss Granger is being held in one of these. We'll need ambush all the locations simultaneously. We can't tip them off that we're hunting them down. As soon as we have a few more locations, we'll strike. In the meantime, we hope that Miss Granger can stay as safe as she can and possibly leave us a clue. Until then, take care of each other. The fight isn't over yet."

After the meeting Harry and Ron were lying in their respective beds in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory. Harry was looking at a picture of the three of them from first year. Ron was holding onto one of Hermione's sweaters.

With a shaky breath Ron asked, "Do you think we'll find her? Do you think she's alive?"

"We will. And she will be. She is the most stubborn witch we know. If it wasn't for her neither of us would be alive. If anyone knows how to survive, it's Hermione Granger.

"You're right mate."

With a heavy heart, Harry hoped he was right.

* * *

She wasn't sure how long he kept at it. Her knees had given up long ago as she hung from the post limply, seeing as her knees didn't reach the ground. The strain on her neck and wrists were past the point of pain, being they were what were holding her up. Her back was now numb; she'd lost the sensation a long time ago. Her throat was sore and raw from the screams that had escaped her.

A knock on a surface behind her brought her back to reality. The sound of a door opening and closing perked her ears.

"Any success Frey?"

She assumed it was Frey that scoffed.

"She's a stubborn one. But she'll give in. They always do. Everyone has their limit. Everyone."

She felt the locks on the stocks come undone. She slumped to the floor as they were lifted. The wounds on her back reopened as the dry blood pulled the skin apart. She watched Frey leave the room through her peripherals. She and Dolohov were the left in the room by themselves.

Since her capture, this was the third time she'd seen him. His demeanor was as dark as she had ever seen. He looked haggard but strong. Tired but aware. The look he was giving her did nothing to settle the bad feeling in her stomach.

"Turn around Mudblood."

Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't.

"Get on your stomach Mudblood." He waited for a response. With a sigh he pointed his wand at her and flipped her on her stomach with a thud.

She groaned at the roughness. He straddled the back of her legs. Her instincts kicked in, trying to buck him off. Dolohov captured her hands and placed them under his knees. Panic overtook instincts.

"Please don't! Leave me alone! Please! I don't know anything!"

He pulled the back of her hair, arching her backwards. "Shut your fucking mouth Mudblood! Now sit still!"

She braced herself for the worst. She put her head against the floor and cried. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to win and she was supposed to be with Ron. Not with Dolohov. Not with a Death Eater. She gasped suddenly. He wasn't raping her. What was he doing?

She recognized the pattern of charms. He was healing her. But why? Why was he healing her after he ordered for Frey to "break her"? She must have voiced her questions because he responded.

"I'm not going to kill you. Know this Mudblood. You are nothing. Your kind is useless. You are nothing more than a mistake in natural selection. The sooner you realize it, the easier life will be."

He continued healing her wounds with a gentleness she didn't think he was capable of.

"Tell me Mudblood. Do you know how long you've been here with me?"

Hermione couldn't help but answer. She wanted to know too.

"No."

"You've been here for six months."

She croaked. "What?"

"That's right Mudblood. It's been half a year. And do you want to know a secret? Potter and Weasley aren't coming for you. They searched for you the first few months. But they've given up. The last of the search party was over a month ago. They held a funeral service for you. The guilt is visibly eating Potter away. Weasley was a blubbering mess. They've both moved on though. Weasley's eyes have been wandering to the desperate witches throwing themselves at him. Potter is now with the female blood traitor Weasley. They're forgetting you. To them you were a casualty. And soon you will be nothing but a memory. Stand up."

He got off of her and waited. It took her a few minutes to stand. Her body was weak from the blood loss and her legs were sore from the semi-kneeling and hunching. She forgot about her modesty, too tired to care. She did notice the lust in his eyes as they raked over her body. He closed the space between them, pushing her up against the wall.

"You are mine now, Mudblood. You will give yourself to me freely. I will have you, body, mind, and soul."

He forced a bruising kiss onto her mouth. Just as quickly he stepped back and threw a newspaper on the ground. With a snap of his fingers, Mippy the house elf appeared.

"Get the Mudblood some clothes and clean the mess Frey left. Give it a blood replenishing potion. I will be back in a week. Make sure the Mudblood is up to standards."

"Yes Master Dolohov." Mippy bowed.

He exited the room with a slam of the door. Hermione waited against the wall while Mippy cleaned. The house elf ignored her completely. Once the room was clean Mippy disappeared in and out. Once to leave some clean clothes. Then to leave some food and the healing potions. And lastly to reveal a bed, a toiletry section, and a list of rules.

Once she was left alone, Hermione picked up the newspaper he had left. On the front cover was an article about the memorial her friends had left in her honor. The tears freely poured down her face and her body convulsed with sobs. Forgetting her clothes, the potions, and the food, she curled onto the bed and let defeat wash over her.

Dolohov was listening the entire time just outside the door. All was going according to plan. She bought his lies, his false sense of security, and the fake article. He smiled to himself as he heard the sobs. There was always more than one way to break a person.


	3. Chapter 3

I'll try and update once a week. Read and review!

* * *

The week had dragged on slowly. Dolohov had been running around the country helping the remaining Death Eaters search for hideouts. There weren't many left, but with the dedicated followers, planning, and resources, they would rise again.

As he arrived into the enchanted cabin, he couldn't help but wonder how the mudblood's training was coming along. Frey was left with specific instructions on how he wanted her taught. He wanted the stubborness beaten out of her. He needed her to be obedient, to serve him. She would be the bait to lure Potter.

He descended from the stairs to where her holding cell was located. With a wave of his wand, the wards revealed a door. With another wave, said door unlocked.

"Dolohov, how nice of you to join us. We were just having a lesson. Isn't that right Mudblood?"

Frey motioned towards the wall.

Dolohov took in her state. She was bloody, barely conscious, thin, and was hanging by her wrists completely naked. The wrists had been chaffed raw, sporting blue and purple bruising, along with red welts. Her nose was bleeding, lip was busted, and there was liquid on the floor.

Frey followed his eyesight, seeing him eye the puddle beneath her.

"The little bitch here thought she could pull a fast one on me. Kneed my bullocks and almost took my wand. Luckily for her, there are other means of weapons. Gave her calf a nice slice down the back. As punishment for disobedience, the Mudblood received 10 crucios. Made them piss herself. I hardly think she'll try again, ain't that right Mudblood?"

Frey lifted her chin with the tip of his wand. She replied with a whimper.

"Show me what you've taught her." He commanded.

Frey unbound her wrists, letting her fall into the puddle of urine. She grunted from the fall and from the ache and pain of the muscles she hadn't been able to use. Hermione knew she had to obey. Her survival counted on it. She just needed to play the part. She thought she could overcome Frey but he was ruthless and sadistic. He got off on leaving his victims useless. He made sure to remind her almost everyday of that.

She pushed herself onto her kknees. Frey was about to start his show for Dolohov. She ground her teeth and waited.

"Let's begin. What's your name?"

She averted her eyes as she answered.

"Mu-Mudblood."

Frey clicked his tongue. On instinct she flinched. Whenever she did something wrong, he'd click his tongue warning her she was about to be punished. She quickly rectified the answer.

"Mudblood, master."

"Good! What is your purpose?"

"To serve Master Dolohov."

Frey was beaming.

"And how will you do that?"

"In...in any way he pleases."

Dolohov stood impassively at the exchange between them. He was impressed. He didn't think the girl would succumb so easily, even though he knew she was just acting. Frey's reputation was good. Master of torture.

"Wanna see her do a trick? I think you'll like it." Frey asked Dolohov.

He nodded. Frey snapped his fingers twice.

Hermione willed herself not to cry. This was by far the most humiliating part. With great effort she stood up. She walked across the small room to a chair.

_Inhale. _She faced the seat of the chair.

_Exhale. _She bent over and placed her elbows in the seat.

_Inhale. _She lowered her face to rest on her arms.

_Exhale. _She opened her legs and waited.

She took a sharp breath when the sensation of a wand was at her lower entrance.

"I would have taken her myself, but if you see here, she's untouched. I thought you'd like to do the honors."

Hermione bit her bottom lip. She was going to be defiled by these men. All her innocence and hard work for nothing.

"You may leave us. Your payment is upstairs."

Dolohov dismissed Frey. As soon as he left he summoned Mippy to get some potions and to clean the mess.

"Stand Mudblood. Follow me."

Without waiting for her response, he opened the door and held it open.

"Now! And don't do anything stupid. I will leave give you a matching scar like in the Department of Mysteries."

Robotically she moved. He motioned for her to go up the stairs first. It was the first time she tried to hide her modesty. She glared at him as he laughed at her futile attempt to cover up.

"Left into the last door in the hall."

She led the way, finally reaching their destination. He opened the door. Inside was a modest sized bathroom with a large bath. Along the wall was a full length mirror. She tried not to look at herself. She felt horrible as it was. There was no need for a reminder.

"Face the mirror."

She didn't move fast enough. Dolohov grabbed her and spun her towards the mirror.

"Look at me Mudblood. I will only repeat this once."

Hermione met his gaze through the mirror.

"You belong to me. I treat my things well. You will treat well if you do not misbehave." He started healing her, never breaking the stare. "You will be seen and not heard. In return, you will be free to roam the house. If I call for you, you will drop what you are doing and come to me. If I need you to research something, you will, if I need you to clean, you will, if I need you to entertain, you will." He turned her to face him and lifted her arm to heal her wrists. "If you disobey, I will punish you. I am much crueler than Frey. Don't test me. If you try to escape, I will find you and I will kill you." He healed her lip and nose last. "Now, disrobe me."

Hermione blanched. Unclear of what he said.

"What?"

He slapped her.

"Disrobe me Mudblood."

She had heard correctly the first time then. Tentatively she raised her hands to his shoulders to pull back his robe. She recalled the rules Mippy and Frey had "taught" her. She folded the robe and set it on the sink counter.

"Continue. All of it."

His stare followed her as she removed the rest of his clothing. His shirt, his shoes, his pants. He smirked at the apprehensive movements when she removed his underwear.

"Turn on the water and step into the tub."

She was about to step in when he stopped her.

"What do you say after I give you a command?"

"Yes Master." She bit her tongue to refrain from saying more. Bastard.

The water filled the tub while she waited inside. She stood still as Dolohov called Mippy. The house elf gave her two potions to drink. She downed them quickly. Mippy then poured another potion into the filling tub. He bowed to Dolohov when it was done.

Dolohov stepped into the tub behind her. He sunk down to the end and relaxed. Hermione was still standing between his legs, watching him. She wasn't sure what she should do.

"Sit Mudblood."

"Yes Master."

She sat on the opposite side of the tub.

He scoffed.

"Over here."

She sucked in a breath and moved towards him. She got close enough to where her back was to him, but they weren't touching. She moved her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

Hermione flinched when she felt his hands on her back. Her mind worked into overdrive... He...he was bathing her. The scent of soap filled her nostrils. He continued on to her arms and legs.

"I meant what I said about caring for the things I own. You're no use to me dirty and undesirable."

Physically she was relaxing. It had been so long since she felt clean. Even longer since she was touched without malice. Internally she was at war. This man kidnapped her. Tortured her. Killed her loved ones. She shouldn't be feeling this way. Was she that starved for affection?

Dolohov could practically see the wheels in her head turning. Physiological torture was his forte. He pulled her back towards his chest as he washed her front. He unwrapped her arms and pushed down her knees. She smirked when her hands gripped the edges of the tub, obviously willing herself not to move. With the rag he moved around her shoulders, chest, breasts, stomach, and her private areas. Her knuckles were turning white as he lingered there, making sure it was nice and clean.

Hermione was angry. Because she was here. Because she was foolish for being bested. Because she let it go this far. Because she couldn't leave. Because he was touching her. And worst of all, she angry because a part of her liked it.

Her breath hitched when he threw the rag and prodded her with his fingers. She tried closing her thighs, but all she managed was to keep his hand locked inside.

Dolohov would have to give himself a pat on the back later. Having Mippy pour the arousal and relaxing elixirs in the tub was genius. They'd both soaked in the tub long enough where the chemicals were in their bodies. He knew from his own erection and was confirmed by her movements. Her body betrayed her. Nipples were pert. Breathing labored. And her core was wet.

He wanted to continue but not there. His torture could hold off a bit longer. Abruptly he stopped and pushed her away.

"Finish your bath and join me in the room across the hall. No wandering. You have 5 mminutes, Mudblood."

He stepped out of the tub and left her there. Hermione was confused. What had just happened? She sat for another 3 minutes before she continued her bath. She washed her hair and was glad to get all the grime out of it. Her mind was still going a million miles a second.

She patted herself dry with the small towel that was on the rack. There was no point in trying to escape. The inevitable was about to happen. She steeled herself and opened the door. Quickly she crossed the hall and into the room he said.

Dolohov was waiting on the bed, his arousal very clear. He watched her stand on one foot then the other, emotions in turmoil.

"Get on the bed Mudblood."

His command seemed to snap her back to reality.

"Yes Master."

With deliberate slowness, she reached the bed. She climbed on, not sure what to do. He answered her silently. Dolohov pushed her down to the pillows. One hand supporting his weight, the other opening her legs, resuming his task from the bathroom. He kissed her roughly, not waiting for her to respond. Harshly he bit her lip causing her to open her mouth, invading it with his tongue.

He mistook the gasp for a mmoan, abandoning her lips and trailing down to her breasts. He abused them, biting, pulling, and sucking without care.

Hermione moved her head to the side. Trying to block out what was happening. She found a clock against the wall. 11:13pm. She tried focusing on the time.

Her mind barely registered as he positioned himself at her entrance. She clutched the sheets underneath when he pushed past her hymen, removing the last piece of evidence of her innocence and childhood. She didn't register his thrusts and moans.

She lost herself in her thoughts. _There are 60 seconds in a minute. 3600 seconds in an hour. 86,400 seconds in a day. 604,800 seconds in a week. 2,592,000 seconds in a month. 31,104,000 seconds in a year. A year is 12 months, with 365 days, with 52 weeks. _She continued the breakdown in her head until Dolohov finished inside of her, rolled over and fell asleep. Until she heard his deep shallow breathing and a light snore.

Hermione rolled on her side, silent tears rolling down her face, absorbed into the pillow. She closed her eyes willing sleep to wash over her. The lat thing she recalled was the mocking of the wall clock.

11:47 pm. 2,040 seconds.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione woke to the comfort of the plush bed. She stretched awkwardly, causing a soreness within her to bring her back to reality. Trying not to panic she took in her surroundings.

The first thing her eyes locked on was the clock. 4:19am. Through her peripheral vision, she took in Dolohov sleeping, face down, snoring loudly. He had a small patch of drool accumulated on the pillow. Then something caught her attention.

His wand!

Slowly she removed herself from the bed, trying not to wake him. With one foot on the floor, confidence filled her. Lowering the other foot, she pushed herself off the bed. She froze and held her breath when his legs shifted. He resumed his snoring and she released the breath she had taken. Tip toeing as stealthily as possible, she went towards the side table with the wand on top.

Keeping one eye focused on his face, she reached for the wand. Her insides were jumping the moment her fingers made contact with the slim piece of wood. As she retracted the wand, she didn't notice Dolohov's change in breathing. In a matter of seconds, her hope died.

Dolohov had snatched her wrist and pulled her towards him. With a twist, he broke two of her fingers, making her drop the wand as she screamed from the pain. He pinned her underneath him watching her cry in pain and from hopelessness.

"I'm surprised you hadn't tried much sooner to escape Mudblood. No matter. Let's teach you a lesson on obeying, yes? Mippy!"

The house elf appeared in the room.

"Master Dolohov requests."

"Summon Frey. Let him know to bring as we discussed."

"Yes Master."

Hermione cried. She had been so stupid. She should have moved faster and left. The second she had a hold of the wand she should have attacked! Moody's mantra of constant vigilance mocked her now. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

"Let's go to the cellar Mudblood. Up."

She knew whatever was waiting for her downstairs would be worse than death. She made her decision she would put up a hell of a fight. She led the way downstairs, Dolohov behind her pointing his wand at her back. Just around the corner she knew it was there. She slowed her steps until she felt the tip of the wand between her shoulder blades.

8 more steps

5 more steps

1 more step

Hermione grabbed a blunt statue from the decorative table. Swinging as hard as she could, the statue made contact with Dolohov temple. He staggered to the floor, dropping the wand. She dashed for it, ignoring the pain as she landed harshly on her hurt hand. She pointed the wand at him.

"Avada-"

"Expelliarmus!"

The wand flew from her hands. Dolohov got off the floor and limped towards Frey, who had disarmed her upon hearing the commotion. Dolohov took Frey's wand and pointed it at Hermione.

"Crucio!"

She screamed. The pain it caused was worse than the first time he'd punished her with it. It stopped for not more than 6 seconds before she felt it again.

"Crucio!"

"Crucio!"

"Crucio!"

Dolohov stopped and levitated her towards an empty room, Frey following at his heels. Hermione was half conscious, fading in and out.

"I'm guessing we're doing this now then?" Frey asked.

"Not before I have some fun. Wake her!"

"Rennervate."

Hermione ached everywhere. The blotches in her vision started to blur out as she blinked them away. She hissed as she pushed herself up, putting pressure on her right hand.

"Welcome back Mudblood." Dolohov yanked her hair back. "Tell me scum, where were you planning on going?"

Hermione didn't answer.

"Would you have been running to your little blood traitor boyfriend and Potter?"

Silence

"They were never your friends Mudblood. I hate to break it to you. Do you know what they really think of you?"

She whimpered as he pulled her hair harder.

"Show her Frey."

Frey summoned a pensieve from his bag. Using a projection of his own invention, the three of them viewed the fake memories he created.

Hermione watched as her friends moved on without her. Harry and Ginny were married. Ron was a playing bachelor. They laughed together. Without her. Lived without her.

"Do you guys ever miss her?" Fake Ginny asked.

"Who?" Fake Harry asked.

"Hermione."

"Please Ginny. All she ever did was nag and complain and cry. Besides copying her homework, she was a waste of time. Her death was the best thing that ever happened. Ain't that right mate?" Ron looked to Harry.

"Right. Don't concern yourself for her Ginny. She'd only ever hold us back. Now we're free."

The memory faded, leaving Hermione to process. They hated her. They were glad she was gone. They hated her.

"See why you're better off with me Mudblood. Serve me and you'll never be alone. Obey me and I'll let you live. Tell me where the Order hides, and I'll let them die at your hand."

They hated her. They were glad she was dead. Dolohov could save her. No! He was the enemy. He was a Death Eater. He kidnapped her. But her friends hated her.

Dolohov and Frey watched her battle within.

"No." She whispered.

"What was that Mudblood?"

"No."

"No? No what?" Dolohov dug his nails into her scalp.

"They might hate me and be happy they think I'm dead, but I won't give them up. What Voldemort stood for is worse than anything they'll ever make me feel. So go ahead. Do your worst."

Dolohov released her. He smiled wickedly at Frey.

"You heard the Mudblood. Let's do our worst."

She watched as both men raised their wands. She took a deep breath. Her friends words rattling in her head. Death would be a pleasure than having to live with the feelings of betrayal from Ron and Harry. Death would be a pleasure than having to be a slave for Dolohov. Hermione welcomed death. She was ready.

"Crucio!"

That's the last thing she heard before her mind went blank.

It's not over yet guys! This mean story has a bit more mean to it. Hang tight.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the hold up. Life got in the way. Alas, the next chapter. Please read and review.

* * *

Months have passed. Months. Not a word. Not a whisper. Not even a false rumor. Until now.

Harry ran down the halls of the ministry, Ron hot on his heels. They ungracefully entered Kingsley's office. With a quick glance around the room, the boys noticed Draco Malfoy seated by the minister's desk. He looked disheveled and worse for wear, but with the trademark smirk on his face.

Harry and Ron were wary about having Malfoy aide the ministry. He was trying to get back on the good graces of the wizarding world, while his father served time in Azkaban. Regardless of the position the Malfoy's were in during the war, the name still carried weight to it. Those who were not paying close attention to the news, didn't know Draco was on right side of the ministry.

"What have you heard Kingsley?" Harry panted as he paced. Ron plopped onto the seat next to Malfoy, making it obvious of distancing the chair from the other man.

"Mr. Malfoy has some feedback for us. Please Draco, proceed." Kingsley motioned towards the blonde.

"I've been getting into contact with some of the Slytherins from school. I've gotten back into some of their inner circles and they've been dropping names of old Death Eaters still on the loose. I was over at Theodore Nott's family estate for dinner last night. Some of the 'reformed' adults were chattering away and there was this bloke that rubbed me the wrong way." Draco handed the two Gryffindor's a small stack of files.

"His name is Johann Frey. He was never a Death Eater but a huge supporter of Vo- the Dark Lord. I asked around and apparently he's known for being quite skilled at torturing information out of people. Rumor is, he is bat shit crazier than Bellatrix. They were friends actually."

"What does he have to do with Hermione?"

"Let me finish Weasley." Draco sneered. "As I was eavesdropping on their conversation, he mentioned that he's had a very big project to work on and that it has been ever time consuming. So consuming in fact, that he's been working on it for almost a year."

Ron paled. "That's how long she's been missing."

"What else did he say?" Harry ignored Ron's comment.

Draco uncrossed his legs and steeled his composure.

"Frey also mentioned that he's working with Antonin Dolohov."

Ron and Harry shared an unnerving look.

"Is there a reason Dolohov would want to hurt Miss Granger?" Kingsley asked.

Taking a seat on the edge of the desk, Harry ran his hand through his untamed hair.

"Back in fifth year, when we went to the Department of Mysteries, Dolohov was the one who captured Hermione. He cursed her pretty badly and left a scar on her chest."

"Also, when we were on the run, Dolohov found us in muggle London. We dueled him and Throfinn Rowle. We couldn't kill them so Hermione wiped their memories. But Dolohov was there at the final battle. Flitwick was dueling him and looked like he'd taken him down." Ron piped in.

"Flitwick obviously didn't kill the bastard." Draco crossed his legs again.

"Dolohov seeks revenge then." Kingsley stated. "Knowing you two would go after her he'd seek retribution in taking you down as well."

"In order to lure out dolohov we need to capture Frey. How are we doing that then?" Harry asked.

Kingsley focused the attention of the three boys on him. "Mister Malfoy and I have been discussing about a raid. The Nott's still have quite the connections with Voldemort's followers. We need to get them all together and ambush them. Draco has informed me that young Mister Nott is betrothed to Pansy Parkinson."

Ron made a face at the engagement.

"Malfoy is invited to their engagement party two weeks from now. He is willing to talk to Nott in helping us attack where we can take down the remainder of the faithful followers as well as capturing Dolohov and Frey."

Harry turned to Malfoy. "Can we trust Nott?"

"To an extent. He will probably let us in and lower the wards, but if it comes down to helping us round the other's up, he will turn the other cheek. Theo's tried to remain as neutral as possible. He and Zabini are the most trusted amongst them. And Pansy's too stupid to trust."

"I'll talk to the other Auror's about the plan. In the meantime, Malfoy talk to Nott. Harry, Ron, start training. We cannot screw this raid up. This is the closest lead we have. I'll let you know what the final plan is. You're all dismissed."

The three young men left Kingsley's office. As the two Gryffindor's were about to leave, Malfoy called out to them.

"Potter. Weasley. Just a second."

"What do you want Malfoy?" Ron sneered.

"Drop the bullshit for a moment Weasley. Hear me out."

Both boys gave him impatient looks.

"From my understanding, if Frey is working for Dolohov, and they do have Granger, you both need to be prepared for the worst. Frey's a torturer. He might have tortured Granger in getting information for the Order. Her bloody Gryffindor stubbornness could have made things worse for her. Just…if they do have her… Fuck. Just be wary."

"Er…Thanks Malfoy."

Harry pulled Ron away before making a stupid remark and causing a scene. They had to stay focused. For her. For Hermione.

* * *

It was the night of Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson's engagement party. The Nott estate was crawling with rich purebloods, criminals, and wanted Death Eaters. Kingsley had 23 aurors surrounding the party, along with members from the Order. They were waiting for the signal from Malfoy, letting them know the wards for anti-apparation were down and the floo network closed.

Harry and Ron had their focus on two men seated near the back.

Dolohov and Frey.

They were pounding back drinks. Frey looked at ease while Dolohov looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there. The two men appeared to be arguing quietly. Dolohov looked agitated at something Frey said. With another few words spoken, the death eater stood from the table and stormed out the door. The other man finished his drink and followed his friend.

"Harry, Ron, and Bill. Follow those two. Don't let them get away and try not to be seen. Malfoy should be giving us the signal in a few minutes. Be careful." Kingsley ordered.

The three men went around the back of the house. After a few minutes of searching they found their targets. Frey seemed to be reprimanding Dolohov. They were too far away to hear their conversation, but whatever it was, it was causing both men to get angry.

Both of the targets stilled at the sound of yells being heard from inside the house. Malfoy must have given the signal that the coast was clear. Bill whispered to the boys. "Now while they're distracted!" The jumped from the bushes, each spewing numerous stunners and hexes.

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Stupefy!"

Frey went down quickly. Dolohov's reflexes were much better though. After failing to apparate, he took on the three of them. Hex after hex, they dueled. He managed to stun Bill, leaving Harry and Ron. The red head threw a bat boogey hex, catching him off guard. In the open moment, the other boy disarmed him and stunned him. Ron went to help Bill.

Harry collected the wands of both them, stashing them in his robes. Frey was unconscious. Quickly, he was bound and set aside. He made his way to Dolohov who was stunned. Bounding him as well, he waited until Ron came back.

"Bill's fine, he went to go help inside." Pulling back his fist, Ron punched Dolohov in the face, knocking him out. "Let's take them in now before I start doing something worse." Taking out their portkey's, they were whisked away with the two prisoners.

Back at the ministry, the aurors started coming in with their arrests. One of them came in with Malfoy. For his own protection, they made it seem like he too was one of the detainees. Kingsley and Arthur arrived shortly after. They'd managed to arrest 17 criminals. Six of which were on the most wanted list.

It was a full 36 hours before the proper paper was processed in order for an interrogation of Frey and Dolohov to pass. The moment the approval got to Kingsley's desk, the Order was informed. The surveying room was cramped as they all waited for auror Brawny to start the questioning. Ron and Harry were the closest to the glass. Both we're beyond pissed that Kingsley didn't allow them to administer the questioning themselves.

"You have to understand why he said no Harry." Ginny rubbed his arm. "You're both too close to this. Your emotions will get the better of you and you might kill them both, leaving us back at square one in finding Hermione."

Although she was right, Harry wouldn't admit it. He was too focused on the room in front of him.

The surveying room went quiet as Brawny lead Frey into the steel room. He bound Frey to the chair and set up the wards. He took a seat in front of Frey and sifted through his paperwork. The Order members were getting restless just watching.

"What the hell is he waiting for?"

"Is this a tactic?"

"Let me in there and beat the tosser to a pulp!"

"Shhh he's talking!"

Silence fell around the room.

"Johann Frey. 37 years old. Pureblood. Sympathizer of Voldemort but none Death Eater. Expelled from Durmstrang Institute sixth year for setting a professor on fire. Arrested 11 times since turning 16…."

Brawny continued listing his criminal record. Harry clenched his fist as Frey continued to look smug at his rap sheet. What Harry wouldn't give to punch the look right off his face.

"Why were you at the Nott estate?" Brawny asked.

Frey sat quietly with an amused look on his face.

"Really? That's the question you're going to start off with?" He laughed manically. "Let's not waste each other's time auror and ask me what you really want to know. If my assumptions are correct, you know exactly what I'm referring to."

"Fine. Are you working for the Death Eaters?"

"Wrong question auror. Try again."

"Are you working Antonin Dolohov?"

"Still the wrong question. I'll give you one more try."

With a frustrated sigh, Brawny asked, "Do you have any information on the whereabouts of Hermione Granger?"

"Ahhh Auror Brawny. That is quite a loaded question. But as a matter of fact I do."

"Where is Miss Granger?"

"Tell me auror, behind that big mirror, are there people watching?"

"Answer the question Frey. Where is Miss Granger?"

"Are the Order members there?"

Before he got a chance to answer, Frey spoke again.

"Is Harry Potter and Ron Weasley there?"

Brawny slammed his fist on the table. "Where is Miss Granger? I will not ask you again!"

"Miss Granger is in a cellar. And before you ask, she is alive. Well...at least the last time I saw her over a month ago. And don't ask me where because I don't know. You see auror, Potter, Weasley, and Order members, I am a survivor. As a survivor, I am smarter than most of you combined. You see every time I did come across Miss Granger, I obliviated the location from my memory because, let's be honest, we all knew none of you would give up until your Gryffindor Princess was found. And look where we are." He gestured to the holding cell.

Frey looked directly at the mirror. Harry felt like he could penetrate through the glass and was looking right at him.

"Would you like to know what has become of your dear Miss Granger, Potter and Weasley? I'll tell you. Step by step." He looked at the auror. "Take notes." He looked back at the glass.

"I'm pretty sure you already know, but let me pat myself on the back for a moment. The Dark Lord hired me to get information by any means necessary. The Dark Lord was happy with my skills. Allow me to tell you some. One of my favorite methods is to beat my subject, oh but not by my fists. I like to make my 'friends' useless. They'll be unable to move and with an assortment of medieval whips and sticks, I get my information. I beat them until they've almost bled to death, until they can't stand it anymore. Until their voice is hoarse from screaming."

All of the Order members were tense. Hanging on his every word.

"My second favorite is to burn my 'friends'. You see with beatings they pass out, but with a little fire, or acid, they stay awake. They claw at their own skin hoping to stop the pain. The acid penetrates their body going deep into their bones, eating away at their flesh and muscle. It's very effective."

"Another is to carve. You see I'm quite skilled in art. DId you know skin is the perfect canvas? Unmarked and unmaimed. With a few knives and a few swishes of the wand, I make perfect masterpieces. You should see some of my artwork. I'd be famous!"

"But my greatest skill isn't to torture and paint. You see I am a fabulous teacher. With a little bit of my methods, I can break even the strongest person to become anything I want or desire. Did you know, I once taught a muggle to be a dog?" Frey laughed with a crazed frenzy. "I had that muggle barking and rolling around like a bitch! I even taught it to fetch the paper, roll over, and bark! It's amazing what a hard hand can do!"

"Does any of this have a point!?" Brawny asked.

"But of course. Like I said, even the strongest break. Everyone has their limit. Everyone. Mix my methods with a few crucio's, anyone will obey. My favorite subject has been Miss Granger though, or at least, she was."

A collective gasp went around the room.

"What do you mean 'was'?" Brawny stood from his seat.

"If you'd stop interrupting I can tell you. Where was I? Ah yes, Miss Granger, or as she responds to now, Mudblood, was quite hard to break. Her spirit was by far the strongest I've ever encountered. And might I say, my best work." He looked back at the glass. "Did you know that I whipped the mudblood for almost four hours? She almost bled to death twice, but wouldn't talk. I broke her wrists, her fingers, removed nails, and carved her skin, but she wouldn't talk. Finally my dear friend said not to worry, we wouldn't need her to talk, but to make her obey. So obey she did."

"Recall I said i saw her a month ago? Want to know what I saw? Of course you don't, but I'll tell you anyway because honestly, this is so much fun. I taught her this neat trick where one snaps their fingers twice and she bends over and grabs her ankles. Want to know what for? So that she can be fucked! I know! I know! I thought it was fantastic too! She might not be useful for information but is she an amazing lay. A nice hole to relieve some stress. I'm telling you some of my best work!"

The faces of everyone went from anger, to disgust, to crying. Ron exited the room and burst into the interrogation cell. He stunned Brawny and went straight for Frey. With every punch Ron laid on him, Frey laughed and laughed. Even when the blood in his throat started to gurgle the smirk stayed on his face. Bill, Arthur, and George rushed to pull off Ron. Once they managed to remove him, Bill checked the pulse of Frey, who had stopped moving.

"He's still alive, but barely."

"Rush him to a bed and call a healer."

Harry watched from the glass as everyone moved in chaos. After a while, Ginny's voice brought him back to reality. He noticed the cell was cleaned of Frey's blood, Ron was bound and silenced to a chair in the corner of the surveying room. Mrs. Weasley was crying. Everyone else was waiting. He needed a moment to himself. He needed to leave.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked.

"Outside. Come get me when they bring in Dolohov." Without looking back, he left the room. His intention was to go outside. He wasn't going to make it though. He rushed to the bathroom's where he threw up until nothing but the stomach acid came out.

With his head in the toilet and his stomach empty, the only thing Harry could do was cry.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione lay on her cot trying to think of anything but the pain. All the pains. The hunger pains. The tired pains. The mental pains. The emotional pains.

Pain was everywhere, yet she thought of the spider web in the corner of the ceiling. Spiders had the capacity to be good for the environment. Useful in almost all potions. They were natural survivors. The way they made a home and nest regardless of where they were. Learning to adapt to their environment. How they were fierce and sacrificial.

That's what she was. Sacrificial.

She couldn't understand why she was alone in the cellar. It had been days since Master had come to see her. Even Frey hadn't come anymore. Did she do something wrong? Were they unsatisfied in her performance and lessons?

Master had been almost happy with her the last time he had come. He mentioned something about attending a party and getting her some books to read. He had bed her and left with a content smile on his face. He hadn't even hit or cursed her that time.

Hermione was unsure of how to feel. He had moments of terror and moments of passion. Was he evil or had a different purpose?

Mippy hadn't come to deliver food nor water.

Was this a test?

The pain in her stomach knocked her thoughts out of her head.

Think. Think. Think.

Harry. Ron.

Those bastards. They had probably forgotten all about her. Living their lives and being happy. Becoming aurors, getting girlfriends. Moving on. She knew Master was right. They never cared about her. They only ever used her. They were both so selfish and unreliable. She always had to be the strong one for them. She had to be the one that figured everything out. Without her they might as well have died sometime during their second year.

What did she get in return? Half assed friendship? Tears? Torment? Being forgotten? If she ever saw them again she would make them pay.

They hadn't even cared that she sacrificed her parents for them. No.

She couldn't think about her parents. It made her heart ache. She loved them too much to think about them.

"Love what a useless emotion. No one loves anyone. No one cares about anything but themselves. Love and friendships are meaningless. Hah!"

She cackled into the cell.

Hermione stood and paced the cell.

"Get your head together Granger. Think. Think. Think. Ahah!" She whirled onto the floor and began tracing letters into the dirty ground.

"Love potions. We need one Ashwinder Egg. 5 rose thorns. ½ teaspoon of crushed peppermint leaves. 1 Moonstone. Boil the rose thorns and peppermint leave for 27 minutes, stirring clockwise every 3 minutes…"

She spoke out loud, almost giving a class to herself on how to brew a love potion.

"No. That's not right. No. No. NO. NO! Somethings missing! Dammit!"

She banged her fist on the floor. "NO!"

Hermione backed herself into a corner, drawing her knees into her chest. She began rocking back and forth, hitting her head on the wall behind her.

"Again. Again. We need...we need one Ashwinder Egg. 5, no 6! 6 rose thorns. ½ teaspoon of crushed peppermint leaves. 1 Moonstone. Boil the rose thorns and peppermint leave for 27 minutes, stirring clockwise every 3 minutes…"

She stopped.

Clank. Clank.

Silence.

She snapped her head towards the door.

"Neville! I need you to keep quiet and listen to Professor Snape! Shhh!"

It took her a few minutes to realize she was alone.

There was no Neville.

There was no Professor Snape.

There was no class.

There was no Hogwarts.

There was nothing.

Nothing but her in the small celled room.

No one but her.

"I am not going crazy. I am not. Nope. Not me. I am Mudbloo-Hermione Granger. I was born September 19, 1979. I am 18…19? 20? No, 19 years old. I am a witch. I went to Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My best friends are…were Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. We were in a war. Harry defeated Lord Voldemort. We were cleaning the battle grounds. I was captur…saved- by Master. No. DAMMIT!"

How would Master make her see the truth? How? She looked around the room. There was a piece of broken stone coming off the wall. She crawled to the opposite side of the room and began working her fingers to help break it completely off. It took her about 20 minutes but it finally came out.

It was dull.

She began rubbing it on the ground at an angle, like chalk. Chalk. Hopscotch. Playing outside. Playing with her neighborhood friends as a kid. Her mother calling her to come inside dinner was ready. Sitting with her parents talk about root canals and HMO's. Her dad saying grace for their food, health, and family.

She shook her head back and forth willing the memories to stop. Without looking she stopped grinding the stone against the floor and plunged it into her arm.

She focused on the pain. She forgot about her parents. Her hunger. Her potions ingredients. Her friends. Her cell. Her master. Everything.

The only thing to focus on was the warm red liquid dripping slowly onto the ground making little puddles of mud when it mixed with the dust of ground up stone.

Hermione lay down on the ground with her arm outstretched. She looked back up at the ceiling and at the spider web.

"Spiders are survivors aren't they mum? They adapt with the world around them. I want to come back as a spider…"

She dosed off dreaming of spiders and all their uses of being in potions.

* * *

Harry rinsed his mouth, trying to remove the lingering remains of the puke he had just gotten rid of. He splashed cold water on his face. It was time to face Dolohov. He had to be ready.

He walked back into the room where the Order was. They had finally let Ron be unbound from the chair. He resumed the spot next to Harry in front of the glass. Neither boy said anything to the other. There was no need for words. They just waited.

Auror Brawny came back into the room with Dolohov. He followed the same procedures of binding him to the chair, warding the room, and sifting through his notes for several minutes.

"Antonin Dolohov. 30 years old. Pureblood. Follower of Voldemort. Death Eater. Convicted for the torture and murder of Muggles and non-Voldemort sympathizers in 1982. Escaped Azkaban in 1996 during the mass breakout. Rejoined the ranks of Voldemort…."

Ron was fidgeting, distracting Harry.

"Stop moving Ron."

"Will the both of you shut up!?" Ginny scolded both of them.

"Where is Hermione Granger?" Brawny went straight for the question this time.

Dolohov didn't even blink.

"Where is Miss Granger? We know she's alive. Frey has confirmed that."

Not even a twitch.

Brawny stood and walked towards the door. He knocked quietly and opened it just a crack. A hand reached in and handed him a vial.

Ron and Harry knew what it was. Veritaserum.

Dolohov seemed to know what it was too. They watched as his eyes widened and he clenched his jaw.

"We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Open your mouth Dolohov."

Dolohov kept his mouth shut.

Brawny reached for the other man's face and squished his jaw together, causing his mouth to open slightly. He poured the contents of the vial onto his face, most dribbling down his chin, but enough had entered his mouth.

"Let's try this again. What's your name?"

"An-Anton-errrr-Antonin Dolhov." He gasped out trying to fight the serum.

"Did you kidnap Hermione Granger?"

"Mmm… —yes."

"Is she alive?"

"Yesssssssss." He pulled on the restraints of the chair.

"Where is she being kept? What's the location?"

Dolohov was closing his eyes in pain, clenching his fists, trying all he could not to speak.

"Bl—black. Black Essstattte innnnnnnnnnn Scot-scot-land."

Harry hadn't noticed Ron had been digging his nails into his arm until the pain became unbearable. He spun towards Kingsley and Arthur.

"We have to go now."

"Wait a moment Harry. We don't know where that is. Let Brawny finish. We need a plan. We can't just leave. We need to be smart." Arthur spoke.

"But-.."

"Arthur's right Harry. At the first chance we get, we'll rescue Miss Granger."

Harry huffed and turned back to the interrogation room.

"Where is that?"

"Fuck you! Hah! It'sss Scotland. You'll never find heerrrrrr. That lit-lit-little Mudblood wh-whore."

No one knew how it happened. One second he was fine and the next blood was pouring down his chin and down his neck. The room erupted in chaos as Kingsley, Arthur, and Bill ran out towards the other room. Ron went white and Harry just stared.

No.

No. They were so close!

They almost knew where she was.

Harry mentally blacked out. He knew what Dolohov did. Even before they told him. To keep the location of Hermione secret, he bit through his tongue and chocked to death.

* * *

"We need to find someone one who knows of the Black properties." Ron paced back and forth in Kingsley's office.

It had been four days since Dolohov had offed himself. Four days since knowing where Hermione was but no way to access her. The Black Estate in Scotland was under the fidelius charm. They couldn't break in even if they knew where it was.

A knock on the office door brought Harry back to the room. Kingsley called in the knocked. Draco Malfoy came in with his mother on his heels. Malfoy looked out of breath and anxious.

"Kingsley. My mother was a Black. She knows. She knows where the estate is. She also has the blood lineage to remove the fidelius charm." Malfoy panted.

"Mrs. Malfoy, can you help us access the estate?"

"Yes. I'll do what I can. I'm hoping with my services, you can help gain access to Lucius. I know you can't pardon him but please allow me visiting rights. Please Minister."

"I'll see what I can do for you Mrs. Malfoy."

"How quickly can you get us inside the Black house?"

Mrs. Malfoy looked at Kingsley, Ron, Harry, and then settles on her son. "I can get you in as early as tonight."

Kingsley cast a patronus to summon the Order.

"Let's move."


	7. Chapter 7

Draco clutched onto his mother as she went limp. She had passed out from the removal of the wards to the Black house. It had taken her over half an hour to remove all the ancient wards that had been set for centuries.

Harry met Malfoy's eyes who gave a nod to move in.

"I'll take her back to St. Mungo's. Go and get Granger."

Brawny led the march into the mansion. In groups of four they split up looking for any lingering occupants and to scope out any clues of the other hide outs the Death Eaters were staying at. Brawny led Harry, Ron, and Arthur down to the basement.

"Frey said she was in the cellar." Ron said.

"There aren't any doors here." Harry spun around the room.

It was a typical basement. There was broken furniture. Old relics. Old paintings. Piles of books covered in dust.

Brawny lifted his wand. "Revelio."

There was a glow underneath their feet.

"Move the carpet." Arthur told the boys.

They rolled up the big carpet revealing a trap door under it.

"Ron help me lift it. Ready? 1. 2. 3!" Arthur and Ron pulled the door up. There were a pair of stairs going down, but that wasn't the first thing the noticed.

Harry covered his nose and mouth. Ron gagged. Arthur looked sick. And Brawny had a grimaced look on his face.

"Bloody hell! What is that smell?" Ron cast a bubblehead charm. The other three followed his lead.

Arthur started the descend of the stairs. The closer they got to the bottom, the stronger the smell was, even through the bubblehead. Flies buzzed around their heads. They finally reached the ground. Ron pulled out his deluminator, lighting the torches against the wall.

"That's a dead house elf." Brawny pointed to where the majority of the flies were.

"Why's it dead?" Harry asked Arthur.

"It must have belonged to Dolohov. If the owner of a house elf dies, and there are no descendants or next of kin, a house elf dies with him or her. It must have died a few days ago with Dolohov."

Brawny pulled on the door to the left. It was nothing but a broom closet.

Ron pulled the one on the right. It held bottles of wine.

Arthur pulled on the center one.

Locked.

"Alohomora!" Arthur pulled again but it was still locked. "Move back boys. Bombarda Maxima!"

The door blew off its hinges. Tentatively Arthur and Brawny went in first. Harry and Ron right behind them. The cellar was no bigger than 12 by 12 feet. Ron's head almost touched the ceiling.

Ron spotted her first.

"Hermione!"

"Wait! Don't touch her Ron!" Arthur pulled his son back.

Harry was frozen.

She was filthy. Blood and dirt covered her body. Almost nothing but skin on bones, obviously starved. Her hair was matted in clumps. Her cheeks hallowed in. She was practically naked, except for a cloth that did her no justice. She was huddled in the corner in the fetal position. Her legs covered in cuts, scars, bruises, dirt, and feces. There was dry blood between her legs.

Ron threw up in the corner, not able to look any longer.

Brawny approached the body.

"Is she alive?" Arthur asked.

Brawny's fingers were on her neck.

"I can't find her pulse, but she's not cold. We need to get her to St. Mungo's. Do you have the portkey?"

Arthur handed him the portkey. "We'll meet you there."

Brawny activated the portkey. He gently put Hermione's hand on it and together, they vanished.

"Come on boys. Let's go." Within seconds, they had left the cellar.

* * *

Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Arthur, George, Bill, Fleur, McGonagall, Ron, and Harry were all in the waiting room. They had been at St. Mungo's for hours. Healers kept going in and out of Hermione's room. They murmured amongst each other, handing one another vials of potions, spells, charms, and orders. At one point one of the Healers came rushing out of the room and threw up into a rubbish bin.

It was another few hours before the Healers started to slow down. It was now just two of them going in and out. One of them approached the group.

"Are you all here for Hermione Granger?" she asked.

Arthur approached the healer. "Yes we are. I'm Arthur Weasley. I believe Minister Kingsley spoke to you about my family and me."

"Ah yes. Mr. Weasley. I'm Healer Whitman. I'll be Miss Granger's healer along with my colleague Healer Liam."

She took Arthur's outstretched hand and shook it.

"How is she?" Mrs. Weasley asked when she joined Arthur.

"Miss Granger is stable for now. She was barely alive when Auror Brawny brought her in. Her heart stopped twice. She had broken fingers, a broken pelvis, a fractured femur, both wrists had been broken but partially healed, and a collapsed lung. Miss Granger was also pregnant. The condition she was in shows she had been raped…repeatedly. In her distress and starvation, she had a miscarriage.

Ginny and Fleur chocked back sobs while Mrs. Weasley let hers come out.

"She's unconscious for now. Unfortunately we don't know how long Miss Granger will remain in that state."

"Can we see her?" Ginny asked.

"You may. I must warn you, there are …er…a lot of scars. We were able to heal some, but others had been done with dark magic, making them unhealable."

Harry and Ron ignored the healer and walked into the room. Hermione was hardly noticeable in the bed. Her body was so thin and her skin so pale, she almost blended in. If it wasn't for her brown hair, one could easily overlook her. They approached the bed, each taking a side.

Ron reached for her hand first. He dropped to his knees, burying his face into the mattress and began sobbing. Harry followed the red heads actions. Each boy cried, making promises to her, they'll never leave her again. They'll protect her from everything. They'll read every book she suggests.

Mrs. Weasley sobbed into Arthur's arms. Ginny into George's. They all cried for her.

* * *

A week had passed and Hermione's vitals stayed the same. Healer Whitman and Healer Liam came in every few hours to check on her and administer potions. Once and a while, one of her fingers would twitch or she'd let out a groan, but she remained asleep.

Harry, George, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley were all in room. George and Ron were playing wizard's chess. Mrs. Weasley was knitting and Harry was reading today's Daily Prophet. He had just gotten to the sports section.

"Chudley Canons are looking for a new Chaser. The team has their eye on Katie Bell. She just left—"

They all stopped at the sound of Hermione groaning.

"Ummmhhh." Her right hand made a fist, gripping the sheets underneath.

"Hermione. Hermione. Open your eyes. Come on Hermione." Harry coaxed.

He saw her eyelids fluttering and her face start twitching. She had let out another groan. Her other hand flexed the fingers. Her eyes shot open.

"George, go get the healers. Quickly!" Mrs. Weasley urged.

Hermione's eyes darted around back and forth. The more she moved them, the clearer her vision became. Brown eyes locked onto green eyes.

"Mmm. Mmmn. Nnn. No. No. No. No! No! NO! NO! NOOOO!"

She started thrashing on the bed.

"Hermione stop. It's me Harry. You're going to hurt yourself. Stop moving."

"Mione it's us. Harry and Ron. Your best friends."

Ron reached for her.

"No! Stop! GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME!"

She managed to shove Ron out of the way. He crashed into Mrs. Weasley, both tumbling into the chair. She took one step off the bed before she collapsed onto the floor. Her legs were too weak from not being in use. A pair of hands tried to grab her shoulders. She swung her arm back hitting the culprit in the face. She crawled into the corner, drawing her knees into her chest and started rocking back and forth.

"I'm sorry Master! Please don't hurt me. I'll be good. I'll be good. I'm sorry Master. I'll be a good Mudblood. I'll be a good Mudblood. I promise. I promise. I'll be a good Mudblood."

"What's going on in here?!" Healer Whitman shouted.

She saw the Weasley's helping each other up. Harry was clutching his nose. Then she saw Hermione rocking back and forth in the corner mumbling.

"Miss Granger? I am Healer Whitman. I promise I won't hurt you. Miss Granger?"

"Master, I promise I'll be a good Mudblood. I promise."

"Healer Liam?"

"I'm here."

"Please escort the Weasley's and Mr. Potter out. I think their presence is causing her duress."

"We just want to help her!" Ron shouted.

"Mr. Weasley, if you want to help, you need to leave. All of you. Now!"

Hermione raised her hands to her ears, covering the sounds of shouting. She focused on the spot in front of her. There were pieces of broken chess pieces on the floor. She noticed one of them was jagged. Was that what Master wanted? For her to punish herself? She reached for it and felt the edge with her finger tip. This had to be what he wanted. She'd do it for Master.

She plunged the broken chess piece into her thigh and slid it down, creating a large gash.

"I'll be a good Mudblood, Master. I'll be good." She kept repeating the mantra.

"Oh my! Hermione no!" Mrs. Weasley yelled.

Everyone turned to the girl in the corner as she made another slash against her thigh as she repeated the same thing over and over again.

"Stupefy!"

A red light hit Hermione, slamming her back against the wall. Her body went limp, dropping the chess piece covered in blood.

George lowered his wand. "Harry, Ron, Mum, let's go wait outside. Let the healers help Hermione."

Healer Liam levitated the unconscious girl onto the hospital bed as the four people left.

Harry watched as the healers began running diagnostics on their friend before he closed the door silently behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Last chapter before the epilogue. Please read and review!

* * *

"We can't just leave here there Ron! We're the only family she has left! We can't abandon her!"

"Harry, it's been five months since she pulled that stunt at St. Mungo's. She's not…she's not our Hermione anymore. Dolohov and Frey destroyed the girl we knew."

"How can you possibly say that?! You of all people should be trying to help her more! Don't you love her?! Didn't you say that when we found her you were going to marry her?!"

"Don't put words in my mouth! Of course I want...wanted those things, but it's different now! Bloody hell Harry, we can't even get near her most days without her screeching like a banshee! I can't do this with her anymore. All she does is babble like a mad woman!"

"I can't leave her Ron. I can't. You abandoned us once in the forest and she stood by my side. If you leave us again, that's fine, let it be on your conscious, but I won't do that to her. I'm the last person rooting in her corner."

"Look mate, I'll support whatever you want to do, but I can't be a part of it. It kills me to see her like this."

Ron left the room leaving behind a defeated Harry. He plopped onto the bed running his hand through his messy hair. What was he going to do? He couldn't leave Hermione in St. Mungo's forever, but he knew he couldn't bring her home with him. Taking care of her was proving to be difficult with his auror training and maintaining a relationship with Ginny. Ginny understood but there were times when she grew frustrated with him as well.

He was lucky he didn't have to worry about her medical bills, not that he didn't have the money for it, but as part of a thank you from the Ministry for helping defeat Voldemort, Kingsley was taking care of the expenses. Harry was going to have to look for other means in which he could take care of her. Maybe he could bring her to live with him and hire a full time healer to watch her around the clock. With one last sigh, he stood and went to the fire place, flooing to St. Mungo's Spell Damage Ward.

Harry walked past the receptionist, giving her a slight wave.

"How's she doing today?" he asked.

"She's in good spirits today. We got her to read a whole page of _Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump._ Good luck Mr. Potter." She shot him an encouraging smile.

She was sitting with her back towards the door as he entered the room. He made sure to make a lot of noise so he wouldn't startle her if she was zoned out. Scuffling his shoes and pretending to cough, he noticed her shoulders flinch, acknowledging his presence. He pulled a chair next to her, taking a seat, and looking out the window.

Hermione was looking healthier. Her pale sickly skin was getting some color back. She had put on at least a stone, her bones not protruding anymore. Her hair was combed and pulled back into a ponytail. The scars on her arms and legs were mostly healed, the occasional one not being able to be healed from the forces of dark magic. Physically, she was looking better. Mentally though, it was a coin toss. Some days she was coherent and sharp. Others she was dead to the world.

"Good afternoon Herm…miss." He caught his mistake. They weren't able to call her by her name yet. She'd throw fits being called Hermione or Miss Granger.

She didn't say anything but turn to look at him. Her eyes lingered on his face for a long time, almost like she recognized him, but turned to face the window once more.

They sat in silence, just watching the wind blow the tree leaves. He reached for her hand, noting her flinch, but not resisting as he laced his fingers through hers. He kept a firm grip on her, practicing like Healer Whitman suggested about affection. She didn't return the pressure though, her fingers just hanging limply in his grasp.

"Would you like to read some more of Babbitty Rabbitty?"

Nothing.

"How about checkers or chess?" They were only allowed to play muggle chess now, not wanting to repeat the mishap from last time.

Nothing.

"Would you like to take a walk down the corridor? Some of the others did some paints. They're out on display there."

When he got no response again, he sighed in defeat and resumed the staring contest with the tree outside. They sat for 20 minutes in silence before she made a move to let go of his hand.

Hermione stood and began looking around her small private room. He watched her smooth out the invisible wrinkles from her bed sheets. Fluff her pillows. Rearrange her books from thinnest to thickest, though there were only six of them. She grabbed a small cloth, dusting the clean furniture, as she mumbled to herself. He was only able to make out a few words, but she seemed to have asked him something.

"What did you say?"

She looked back at him annoyed, clearly a look he was used to. "I asked if you cleaned the living room! Our guests will be here soon and the house is a mess! Look at you! You haven't even showered. Honestly, you're the worst host ever Richard!"

Harry smiled sadly at Hermione. This was a scenario that happened often. She seemed to think she was her mother and that he was her father, playing husband and wife. The first few times it happened, he had indulged her in playing along. It wasn't until once she got so upset that their guests never arrived that she threw a fit. After that Healer Whitman told him that he had to be honest with her.

"I'm not Richard. And you're not Jean, love. There are no guests coming."

She continued mumbling to herself.

"I need to finish cleaning the kitchen and preparing the roast. Where is that daughter of mine? Richard, please call our daughter to come help me."

Harry walked over to her, taking the cloth from her hands, and resting his hands on her shoulders.

"I am not Richard. You are not Jean. There are no guests coming. You are not preparing a roast. You do not have a daughter."

Hermione stared at him until the words began sinking in.

"You're not Richard?"

He shook his head.

"No love."

"Who are you then?"

"I'm your friend. Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?"

"Yes. We've known each other since we were 11 years old."

Her eyes seemed to focus intently on his face. She reached up to move his hair back, revealing the scar on his forehead. He felt her fingers tremble as she traced it lightly.

"Harry?"

"Yes love?"

"Where am I?"

He sat her down on the bed, taking her hands in his lap.

"You're in St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's. How long have I been here? Did we win? Where's Ron?"

He chuckled softly as she asked them all in one breath.

"You've been here for a few weeks." Liar. "We won. Voldemort is dead." Truth. "Ron's working. He said he'd stop by after work." Liar.

Her eyes glazed over, lost in her thoughts again. Her coherent bouts never lasted long. They were few and far in-between. She looked up at him again, and smiled sweetly.

"Let's dance." Hermione pulled him up on his feet. "Let's dance like we did in the tent."

Harry twirled her around as she laughed loudly. If she wanted to dance, he would indulge her, anything to keep her happy and laughing. Anything for her.

Hermione spun again before resting her head on his shoulder as they slow danced back and forth. She sighed contentedly, relaxing in his arms. Harry rested his head against hers, continuing to sway.

"Thank you Harry." She whispered.

"What for?"

"For not abandoning me like Ron."

Harry froze mid step. How did she know? Was Hermione still in there? Could she still make a break through and come back to them? Before he got a chance to ask her anything, she pulled away from him and kissed him softly on the lips, taking him by surprise.

"Thank you for asking me to the Yule Ball, Viktor. I should get going though. I'm tired and I need to help Harry for the next challenge."

Hermione walked towards the closet and pulled out a nightgown. She turned her back to him as she changed. The scars on her back had healed but were raised over her skin. Patches of it were an angry red that looked like they'd hurt, but the healers assured him, they were as healed as could be. They disappeared from view as she was finally dressed for sleep. Harry looked at his watch. It was only 3:47pm.

She pulled back the covers and got comfortable in bed. Lying on her side, facing the wall. Harry sighed at pulled the chair next to her bed. He sat next to her over and hour, running his fingers through her hair, as she slept. The door creeped open, Healer Whitman peaked her head in.

"Visiting hours are over Harry. Five minutes left."

"Thank you."

Harry cleaned up a bit, placing both chairs in their proper place, hanging the ward shirt she'd left on the floor and closing the closet. He closed the curtain over the window, leaving a small crack open, knowing she hated waking up in complete darkness. He leaned over her sleeping figure, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Good night Hermione. I'll see you in two days. I love you."

She sighed in her sleep, a peaceful serene look on her face. With one last look back at his sleeping friend, Harry left.

He'd be back in a few days and keep her company for as long as it took to get her back.

* * *

Epilogue is next. Don't forget to read and review.


	9. Chapter 9

This is it! Thank you all! Please read and review!

* * *

Harry sat in his home in front of the fire place with a half drunken bottle of fire whiskey in his lap. His tie hung loosely on his neck, his shoes kicked over a few feet away from him, his suit jacket wrinkled on the floor, and his eyes bloodshot, staring at the unopened envelope addressed to him, in his hands.

He wanted nothing more than to throw it the fire and let it be consumed, forever disappearing. If he did, then he wouldn't have to face reality. He could live on, feigning ignorance for the rest of his life. But he couldn't do that. Even if he was imperiused, he couldn't. He knew he had to face the truth.

Hermione Granger was dead.

Hermione was dead.

His best friend was gone.

There was nothing left of her but the envelope in his hands.

Harry took a long hard swig of the fire whiskey. He felt the burn as it went down his throat and settled into his stomach. He leaned back on the recliner and closed his eyes. Drowsiness overtook him and his nightmare started.

_He was at St. Mungo's for a regular visit. He had flooed to the fourth floor like he always did. He said good afternoon to the receptionist._

"_How's she doing today?"_

"_Mixed day. Started off not so great but towards lunch time she seemed better. You might lift her spirits though."_

"_I'll do my best. Thank you."_

_Harry was sure he would lift her spirits. Healer Whitman had given him clearance to bring her one of her favorite things. _Hogwarts: A History._ It was the newest edition. It included the defeat of Voldemort and their journey. He was excited to read it to her._

_He got to her room and knocked on the door. There was no response, but he never really expected one._

_Turning the knob, he let himself in. Odd. It was empty. Perhaps she was in the loo. He waited for her by the window. After five minutes he started to get worried. A knot in his stomach was forming. He placed the book on the bed and walked to the bathroom door and knocked._

"_Are you in there love?"_

_Silence._

_Willing to take the risk, he opened the door. It too was empty. Harry walked out of the room and towards the reception area. _

"_Is Hermione in a session right now?"_

"_No Mr. Potter. She's in her room. She's been there for the last hour."_

"_Well she's not in there."_

_The receptionist called over another healer._

"_Please stay here for a moment while I help Mr. Potter."_

_Harry followed her to Hermione's room. He watched her look around. Under the bed, inside the bathroom, she even checked to make sure the window was still warded. She made her way towards the closet. He hadn't remembered to look there. She opened the closet. Nothing but clothes on the hanger. Just as she was about to close it again, he saw what would forever be engraved in his mind. Scooted into the corner of the closet, hidden by the nightgown she always wore, was a hunched over body. _

"_Hermione!"_

_He dropped to the floor and turned her to face him. She rolled onto her side, falling heavily onto the floor. He didn't notice the receptionist run out calling for help. All he saw was his best friend, on the floor, deep gashes along her arms, covered in blood. There was a broken plastic fork clutched in her stiff hand. Clearly it was the tool she had used. _

_He didn't recall anyone coming in. He only remembered being pushed out of the way as Healer Whitman and Healer Liam performed spell after spell on Hermione. He didn't notice that security was pulling him up on his feet leading him out of the room. He didn't notice the chaos of people rushing in and out of the room. He didn't notice Healer Whitman crouching in front of him telling him what he already knew._

_Harry barely recalled Mr. and Mrs. Weasley showing up minutes later with Ginny, Ron, and George in tow. He blocked out the heart wrenching sobs being emitted by Mrs. Weasley. He didn't recognize who was hugging him. Maybe it was Ron or Ginny or both. The only thing he could remember was the blood on his hands. Hermione's blood on his trousers._

_When had he gotten blood on him?_

_It didn't matter. She was gone._

Harry woke up startled. He clenched his wand and pointed it towards the foyer. Ginny and Ron emerged giving him a crazed look. Ginny's eyes were red from crying. Ron was paler than ever. Red eyed, red nosed, sniffing in his snot from crying. Harry lowered his wand as the joined him on the sofas. Ginny took the fire whiskey, taking a long drink before passing it to Ron who followed his sister's actions.

"Mum sent us to come check up on you. She said you should come stay at the Burrow for a few days. That we should all be together right now." Ginny said.

"I'll stop by later. I just needed to clear my head."

Ron had bent over to pick up the envelope on the floor. It had fallen in Harry's abrupt rise.

"What's this?"

Harry took it from him and sighed. He knew he'd have to tell them eventually. He wanted a chance to either burn it or read it first though.

With a deep breath he said, "It's her suicide note."

No one said anything. Each clearly trying to imagine what she could have possibly said. The floo began to glow, having a morose looking George join them.

"Mum sent me to come get you lot. You weren't home fast enough. She wants to keep tabs on all of us."

George sat between his siblings and across from Harry. He took the shared bottle and finished the last bit of contents. His eyes flickered to the note in Harry's hand. He had seen Healer Whitman hand it to him at the funeral and overheard her say it was a suicide note. Clearly none of them had read it. They were probably all too afraid to do so. Making an executive decision, he reached for the envelope. Harry didn't even try to fight him on it.

As careful as possible, he broke the back seal, removing the letter, and unfolding it. He recognized the writing of their friend, not quite as neat and elegant, but the penmanship was unmistakable. He began to read it out loud.

_Harry-_

_Please forgive me. I can't bear this life anymore. I can't bear remembering all the things that happened. I can't beat the nightmare anymore. I don't want to relive those moments in my mind any longer. I can't deal with not always being able to remember you. Please forgive for taking the coward's way out. But I can no longer live this life of pain and suffering._

_Please don't blame yourself. You have been nothing short of wonderful through this. I only wish that I could remember it all. If it wasn't for you, I'm not quite sure what would have become of me. All I know is that with this decision, we can both move on._

_Promise me that you won't blame yourself. Promise me that you'll take care of yourself when I'm gone. Promise me that you'll live a happy life with Ginny and that you'll always have Ron. Promise me that all that we fought for and all that we have suffered has not been in vain. _

_Promise me that when you are old and grey, and your time has come, that you will meet me in the afterlife and tell me that you have fulfilled your promise._

_With all my love, heart, and soul,_

_-Hermione _

George cleared his throat and folded the letter, placing it back in the envelope. They all sat silently, a million and one thoughts going through their heads.

Harry leaned over and put his shoes back on. He took off his tie and undid the first few buttons on his shirt. He stood and took the letter from George's hands, placing it in his back pocket. He stood in front of Ron, pulling him up into a hug. He released him and did the same to George. Letting him go, he went and hugged Ginny the longest. He broke the embrace but took her hand and led her to the fire place.

"Let's go to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley is probably waiting for us."

He let them all go first. As he was left alone, he made a vow to himself to fulfill her wishes. He would follow every single promise.

Harry took a handful of floo powder and threw it at the flames. He was going to start right now.

"The Burrow!"

-fin-

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Than you all once again! If you haven't read my other story, check out "The Pleasure Is All Mine Miss Granger". It's a Hermione and OC pairing. Non-slash and complete.


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